


Masquerade

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mind Control, Mindfuck, Rape/Non-con Elements, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 09:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1852312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry discovers Severus is still alive after the war.  When he undertakes a mission to find Severus and encourage him to come back to the Wizarding world, he discovers that nothing is as it seems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Masquerade

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** Thank you so much to the mods for running this fest and for being so incredibly patient. Thank you to A for the SPaG check.

Kingsley tells Harry that Severus Snape is still alive just after Lucius Malfoy is sentenced to three years in Azkaban.

“I watched him die.” Harry kneads the base of his neck and tries to process the revelation. He’s exhausted from the work which followed in the aftermath of the war, and months of lengthy trials. “I don’t see how he could have survived.”

“His body was never found and we have a sighting. He’s living as a Muggle but our eye witness is reliable and quite sure it’s Snape.” Kingsley squeezes Harry’s shoulder and gives him a sympathetic look. “One more job, Harry. Are you up to it?”

Harry swallows. He just wants to _live_ again, but he knows while there’s still work to be done, he will do anything that’s required. Besides, the thought of Snape being alive fills him with excitement and hope for a chance to make amends. “What do you need?”

“Find him. Try to convince him to come back.”

“Will he be tried?” As those watching the trial of Lucius Malfoy filter from the room, Harry’s gaze settles on Draco and Narcissa who cling to one another, their faces pale and etched with grief. 

“No. All charges against him have been dropped. He would come back not only a free man, but a hero. I expect he will be awarded the Order of Merlin for his work for Dumbledore.”

“Then there’s no risk in bringing him back?”

“Not from our side, at least. I can’t guarantee his safety as regards the Death Eaters we haven’t yet been able to find, but I imagine he will be safer in our world than out of it.”

“You know we’re not exactly friends. I’m not sure why you think I can convince him.”

Kingsley laughs. “I think you stand as good a chance as any of us.”

* * *

The house is small and isolated, perched on the top of a cliff with weather-beaten paintwork and windows which need a good cleaning. The smell of the sea mingles with a faint, unpleasant scent which Harry can’t quite identify.

He knocks on the door and waits for Snape to answer. Inside, he can see a flicker of movement as a shadow passes over the window. He wraps his robes around him to protect against the wind until finally, the door opens and he finds himself greeted with a scowl.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You’re supposed to be dead.” Harry glares at Snape, the sight of him making Harry strangely angry. “It’s a bloody horrible trick, disappearing like that.”

“I wasn’t aware you or anyone else would care.” Snape stands to one side and lets Harry into the house. “Forgive me.”

Harry huffs at Snape’s apology, laden with sarcasm. He tugs off his damp outer robes and hangs them on the bannister, looking around and rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Nice place you’ve got here. I never had you down for much of a fisherman.” Harry gestures to the lobster pots and snorts. “Who did you have to Obliviate to get this?”

“I am flattered you think so highly of me, Potter. Can I interest you in a drink?”

“Why not?” Harry follows Snape into the kitchen and looks around with a frown. The house is an odd, ramshackle place which looks as if it was only recently abandoned. The familiar scent of potions ingredients mingles with the scent of the lobster pots and the strange smell Harry noticed when he first arrived. “So how _did_ you come across this place?”

“I am familiar with the area, and when I overheard the locals talking about a fishing accident and a cottage left to go to ruin, I decided I would take advantage of the situation.” Severus pours two cups of tea and hands one to Harry.

“I still don’t understand how you survived. You look well considering the last time I saw you, you were bleeding to death.”

“You flatter me.” Snape glares down his nose at Harry and settles into a seat opposite him. “I have more potions knowledge in my little finger than most acquire in a lifetime. I was fully prepared for the possibility of an attack from that damned snake.”

“I might have known.” Harry grins, relaxing a little.

“You, however, look less well.” Snape smirks, as if the sight of Harry looking knackered gives him great pleasure.

“Thanks.” Harry rolls his eyes. “It’s been a long few months.”

Severus looks curious. “Indeed. Have you found everyone who took the Dark Lord’s side during the war?”

“Not quite.” Harry sighs and rakes a hand through his hair. “Yaxley and Mulciber are still out there somewhere. Not to mention all the people who supported Voldemort but didn’t actually become Death Eaters. Most of those are still working at the Ministry and it’s pretty difficult to charge them with anything specific. The main thing is, we know who they are.”

“You would be wise not to underestimate the support that still remains, even if those who supported the Dark Lord are less vocal about it now.”

“I don’t intend to underestimate it,” Harry agrees. “Can I use the bathroom?”

“Upstairs.”

Harry stands and makes his way upstairs with a yawn. A wave of tiredness causes him to stumble and he places his hand on the wall to steady himself.

“Get _out_.”

The words carry through the air towards Harry and stop him in his tracks. He recognises the tone instantly, even though the voice is weaker and rougher than he remembers. He pushes open the door to a small room, his mind sluggish and tries to process the sight in front of him.

Bound and shackled to the wall is Snape – a different Snape to the one who opened the door to Harry when he arrived at the cottage. Snape’s hair is shorter at one side, crudely hacked off without care. Snape’s shirt gapes open and his pale chest is covered with marks, singed onto his skin. One of the marks looks fresh and the stench of burning flesh hits Harry’s nostrils with enough force to make him retch.

“Who?” He tries to pull himself forward to free Snape, but his legs are heavy and slow. He reaches for his wand but his hands are no longer capable of movement and the name slips from Snape’s lips, just as Harry falls to the floor.

“Yaxley.”

* * *

Harry slides his hand down to his belly. His body is slick with perspiration, his cheeks hot and flushed. A cooling breeze causes the curtains to billow away from the window, and just for a moment he can see the moon.

His breathing hitches as tendrils of cool night air caress his skin. He slides his hand lower, teasing the tip of his cock with his thumb. He wraps his hand around himself, hard and aching for release. The shadows of the night whisper to him and slide over the walls, creeping onto the duvet which he hastily threw back some time ago.

He strokes himself slowly, wanting to take his time.

He can feel other people in the room, watching from the shadows. The floorboards creak as someone approaches the bed, and Harry meets their eyes.

“Snape?”

The shadowy figure shift closer and Harry groans, his back arching as he strokes himself faster. His body burns with desire and need, and he reaches into the darkness.

“ _Please._ ”

“Patience, Potter.” The shadows shift, the bed dips, and Snape trails his fingers over Harry’s chest. They are cool and stained with ink.

“I can’t… _fuck_.”

As Snape’s fingers move lower and their eyes meet, Harry comes with a grunt, spilling himself over his hand and leaving his stomach sticky, warm and wet.

“What a sight you make.” Snape swipes his fingers through the sticky come and sucks his thumb into his mouth with a hum of appreciation. “ _Delicious_.”

Harry’s senses fill with Snape, his spent cock twitching feebly and his body craving more. He wants to pull Snape down and beg to be filled. A litany of filthy thoughts threaten to spill from his lips.

“Fuck me. Please.”

“Eager boy.” Snape presses a cool glass into Harry’s hand and shushes him. “Drink this first. Then I will take _my_ pleasure.”

The drink is cloudy and shines in the moonlight, like liquid pearls. Harry frowns, because this doesn’t look much like water. Then he feels a gentle pressure in his mind, and a sense of blissful relief overwhelms him.

“ _Severus_.” He drinks, and places the glass down. He looks at Snape and another wave of desire sends heat through his body. He hears movement and he thinks there must be other people in the room, hiding in the night’s shadows. He doesn’t care, not anymore. All he can think about is Snape and nothing else matters.

He watches Snape strip and licks his lips at the sight of Snape’s cock, hard and heavy between his legs.

“You would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?” Snape smiles and Harry nods, eagerly. The same sense of blissfulness pulsing through his mind, he rolls over onto his knees. He reaches behind himself and spreads himself wide open for Snape.

Snape laughs behind him and cool lubricant drips between the cheeks of Harry’s backside. Snape presses his cock against his hole and then with one hard thrust, he fills Harry completely.

Harry cries out, both in pain and pleasure and rocks back against Snape. He lets the sensations of need and desperate desire course through his body and mind. He clutches the sheets tightly in his hands and loses himself in the sensations.

“Do you see how much he enjoys this Severus? What a pretty little whore he makes.”

Snape’s words confuse Harry and bring him out of his daze for a brief moment, but then something nudges at his mind and any doubts slip away. His lips form words which fall from his lips. He begs for things he never knew he wanted, and the shadows continue to slide over the walls as Harry’s pleasure overtakes him.

* * *

When Harry wakes, his hands are shackled to the bed and he watches Snape dress.

“More…”

“You’ve made the Amortentia and whatever else you mixed with it too strong, Yaxley.” Mulciber comes into view and frowns as Snape continues to pull on his robes. “The brat is insatiable.”

“Isn’t he just?” Snape smirks and approaches the bed. He kicks Harry’s legs apart and strokes his fingers along his crease. Even though Harry is aching and stretched, he can’t help but writhe in place when Snape’s touch sends another pulse of desire through his body.

“Potter’s supposed to be back at the Ministry in a matter of days, and you have to see Shacklebolt _today_. We don’t have time for this, just get the bloody hair.”

“I disagree.” Snape pushes a finger inside Harry, which isn’t nearly enough and he arches up, his lips parting. “We have all the time in the world.”

“I’m going to check on the Polyjuice. Let me know when you’re ready to stop fucking and start working.” With a snort, Mulciber leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

“Why is he here?” Harry looks at the door with a frown and then back at Snape. He wonders how he can let Snape do these things to him with other people in the room and pulls away from his touch as best he can. “I don’t understand, it’s supposed to be just you and me, isn’t it?”

“Don’t worry, Potter. Everything is going to be just _fine_.” Snape’s lips pull back in a strange smile and he shushes Harry. Once again, something strokes his mind, and Harry can’t resist when a sense of weightlessness combines with euphoria and desire. He relaxes back onto the bed and lets Snape’s fingers enter his hole again, closing his eyes as they probe deep inside him.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere of importance. I’ll be back soon enough.” Snape pushes another finger into Harry’s hole and twists them in a way which makes Harry cry out. “I think we should get you ready for when I _do_ come back, don’t you?”

“Merlin, yes.”

Snape reaches for an object next to the bed and works it into Harry. The stretch is uncomfortable and Harry shivers beneath Snape’s touch, spreading his legs further apart in an attempt to accommodate the intrusion.

“Such a dirty boy.” Snape laughs and finally moves away from the bed, admiring his handiwork before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Harry turns his head to the part of the room where shadows always seem to shift. He thinks he sees Snape on the floor with his hands bound over his head, but he isn’t sure he believes his eyes anymore. Snape looks different to a moment ago, and a dull roar rises in Harry’s ears, his mind working slowly in an attempt to understand.

“I thought you left?”

“No.” Snape’s response is clipped, his eyes dull as he meets Harry’s gaze. “No, I didn’t leave.”

“I love you, Severus,” Harry whispers, and Snape winces as if the words physically hurt him. He looks away and shakes his head.

“No, Harry. You don’t.”

_~Fin~_

**Author's Note:**

> Comment here, or [comment on Livejournal.](http://hp-darkages.livejournal.com/7532.html)


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